


Be There

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: The reader has a sad. Cas is there to catch her when she falls apart. Inspired by ‘Krewella - Be There’
Relationships: Castiel (Supernatural)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Be There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eurusholmmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurusholmmes/gifts).

“What’s wrong, Sunflower?” Cas notices you haven’t touched your dinner - dinner being the hot fudge sundae he ordered for you because you didn’t respond to the server when she asked if you were ready to order. He knows even though it’s traditionally dessert fare, that it’s also your favorite and neither one of you is in the habit of treating traditions as an infallible code of conduct anyway. The fact you haven’t taken a single bite of it worries him. In fact, you’ve been especially quiet the whole day, and this is the first the angel has been able to get you alone from the Winchesters to ask you why.

Face propped in the framework of upturned fingers drumming at your temple, tears prick your lashes for the umpteenth time today because on top of everything else, now you’ve troubled the angel of your affection. You mumble a lie of, “Nothing,” and halfheartedly poke at the melted mixture of chocolate and ice cream congealing in the fluted glass dish plunked before you with a spoon to deflect his attention.

Undeterred by your diversion, he slides a hand across the table and up your arm to capture your wrist. Laying the limb palm up between you, he covers your hand with his own; the tips of his fingers tickle the sensitive skin below your thumb where your pulse pounds thready at his touch. 

His brow bends upward over blues shining in question and concern. “I’m no expert, but in my experience, people don’t typically cry about _nothing_,” he says softly.

“I’m just … _sad_, but really-” you sniffle with the last strength of will keeping your emotions in check against the well of woe threatening to drip from your nose and wipe your welting eyes with the back of a sleeve- “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I understand.” He lifts his free hand to cradle your cheek. “But if you change your mind-”

“I know-” You lean reflexively into the comforting caress- “and thanks.”

Seeing you like this hurts his heart. He’d love to take the pain away with a wave of grace and tell you it will all be okay. He’s no expert, but he knows emotions happen for a reason - and often without reason - and above all need a safe space and time to work themselves out. He can’t fix what ails you, but he can be there for you if that’s what you need. “Can I do anything else to help?”

“You care, Cas. You’re here. That’s enough.” You begin to tremble under the pressure of all you’ve bottled inside; a few stray tears shake loose and fall to wet his skin. 

For the angel with too much heart, caring is both the easy and the hard part. He feels you start to shatter, emotions erupting from the inside out. “I do care about you. Very much,” he confirms, “and I’m right here.” He’s on his feet and standing beside you wrapping you in the warmth of his trench coat and ushering you out the diner’s door and into his truck seconds before the emotional barriers breach completely and you breakdown in the seraph’s embrace. 

He holds you snug while you sob into his shirt, smooths his hand in circles over your spine, presses kisses into the crown of your hair and whispers he will always be there for you as long as you need him to be.


End file.
